


I am nothing compared to you.

by PiousMage



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Diary/Journal, F/F, Multi, POV First Person, Post-Mechonis Core (Xenoblade Chronicles), Pre-Epilogue: Xenoblade Chronicles Future Connected, Xenoblade Chronicles Spoilers, melia go to therapy challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiousMage/pseuds/PiousMage
Summary: After the final battle, and honestly for a decent amount of time before that, Melia is and has been Going Through It. Her friend Sharla gifts her a journal, in which she begins to record her thoughts about Fiora, Shulk, outliving her friends, leading her people, rebuilding her home, and more.
Relationships: Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Fiora, Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Fiora/Shulk, Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Shulk
Comments: 19
Kudos: 26





	1. Heartless! Selfish! Evil! Despicable!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melia has been having some particularly bad intrusive thoughts, and all of them are about Fiora.

I have been avoiding this for quite some time, but I feel that the time has finally come for me to start this in earnest. It has been a few weeks since our triumph over Zanza and Dickson, although I do not feel quite right taking any credit for it whatsoever. It is Shulk's triumph, for without him I fear that all we accomplished would not have been possible. He has assured me time and again that I contributed to our efforts, and I must concede that there is some truth in what he says. I have worked as hard as I can to honor the memory of my father, my mother, my brother, and everyone else who was lost in the course of our quest. If I take no credit for my actions, I risk tarnishing that memory.

This journal was a gift from Sharla, although I suspect it was also a message. In the time since our journey's end, she has been kind enough to lend her ear to me when I have needed someone to disclose my thoughts to. That said, there are things I have been unable to tell even her, and as of late my disclosures have been vague. She also has her hands full with the continued restoration of Colony 6, and I believe this journal was her way of allowing me to have someone to talk to even without her presence. She has been a true friend to me since the day we met, and I can only hope that I have been as good a friend to her.

I digress. This is not about Sharla. This first entry is about Fiora. I know that Fiora and Sharla are also very close, and as a result Sharla knows nothing of what I am willing myself to write down. All she knows is that there are thoughts in my head that trouble me, thoughts so dire that I have been unable to share them with a soul. I confided in her during my most recent visit to Colony 6, and she approached me with this journal as I prepared to depart the next morning.

"If you can get those thoughts out of your head, you'll find that the load's a lot lighter on your shoulders," she told me. The journal itself was blank and featureless at the time, save for a lock, my initials engraved on the back cover, and a message from Sharla on the inside of the front over: "Love you, Melia. Hope this helps." I didn't ask her whether or not she had bought and altered it or made it herself, but I treasured the gift either way.

Ha. It seems that even now I am doing all I can to avoid talking about this subject. I suppose that the part of me that gives me such anguish does not wish to be named, to be known. I cannot delay any longer.

~~Fiora. Even as I write her name, my script becomes shaky. I feel myriad emotions, some of which I have felt for some time and some of which are entirely new. Some of these emotions I can name, and others I cannot. The beat of my heart accelerates, and my breath becomes unsteady. How is it that one Homs can dominate one's thoughts so? I felt strongly about Shulk, but~~

No. That's no good. I must first state the facts. There is a High Entia regeneration chamber in the ruins near Colony 9. Before our battles with Dickson and Zanza, Linada informed Shulk of its possible existence, and shortly thereafter he saw me commanding it to open it in one of his visions. Her research had led her to believe that it could restore Fiora's original Homs body, although it could take as long as six months. At the time, Fiora refused to enter the chamber, as she wished to aid us in our final battle. There was a great deal of risk associated with this; without Lady Meyneth's Monado to power her mechanized body, we had no way of knowing how much longer she would continue living. 

Still, she refused. And at last we reach the heart of what has pained me so. Her body could have ceased functioning the day after, or it could have ceased functioning the week after. The final days of our group's journey felt frenzied, as we raced a clock we couldn't see, but Fiora was perhaps the most relaxed out of all of us. I do not believe that she was ready to die at any time. I know it to be fact. She told me as much when she originally confided in me about her body's state, while Shulk was incapacitated. I was the first person she told. It was then and there that I knew I was nothing compared to her.

Yet, despite the great deal of admiration I felt for her in that moment, ever since then there was a part of me that resented her for it. I never thought it would be so difficult to write a simple word. But that is also true. As much as I tried to drown it out, I resented Fiora. I envied how close she and Shulk were. I envied the attention she was receiving. I envied her strength and her bravery. I coveted it. It made me feel awful. Hideous. Sick. As I write this, my stomach still lurches at the thought of it.

When Fiora told me about her limited time to live, she implored me to take care of Shulk in the event of her death. Immediately, I refused. Even as she stared death in the eyes, she was still selfless. It made me furious, because I knew that I would be utterly unable to do the same in her place. It also put a certain thought into my head--well, that's not exactly it. The thought was already there, dormant. Fiora's offer awakened it.

"If Fiora dies, Shulk will be mine."

Heartless! Selfish! Evil! Despicable! What a horrid thing to think! Though I am unable to deny it. Try as I might to dispel it with logic or distractions, it nevertheless remained in the back of my mind. Reason dictated that the situation was nowhere near that simple. Losing Fiora for a second time would no doubt leave Shulk heartbroken yet again. It's impossible to know if he would ever have room in that broken heart for anyone else. Still, those terrible thoughts remained, piercing my mind like sharp needles. They brought me anguish that I was forced to bear in silence. I deserved no one's pity.

Even as I caught myself dwelling on those thoughts when Fiora suffered a coughing fit, or when a particularly tough battle left her unable to move for some time, I knew in my heart that there was only one way to truly overcome my own darker side. It was, indeed, something I was destined to do. I would open the regeneration chamber, and I would help Fiora regain the body I secretly never wanted her to have again.

That is exactly what happened. Shortly after our final battle against Zanza, Fiora, Shulk, and I traveled to the High Entia ruins near Colony 9. I knew I could not refuse such a thing. Not only had Shulk already seen it happen, but I couldn't bear what my refusal would do to him. The idea of doing so was certainly there, but I never entertained it. At my command, the chamber opened. Fiora exchanged goodbyes with Shulk and I, and stepped inside as I closed it behind her.

She has been there for about a month, and we have been careful not to disturb her. I am unsure whether or not she is even conscious right now. Linada's research revealed its existence but not how it worked, and any resources in Alcamoth that would further illuminate its function are currently inaccessible. All we can do is wait. Shulk seems restless, and he has been traveling up and down the Bionis with Reyn. Riki is back with his family in Makna Forest. And Dunban has remained in Colony 9 all this time. He has not said anything of the sort, but I believe he wishes to be the first to greet his sister once she emerges. I cannot bear to think of how his opinion of me would shift if he somehow learned of these thoughts that have plagued me.

They remain, unhindered by Fiora's presence in the regeneration chamber. "What if it fails? What if she dies before its work is complete? What if it somehow remains sealed forever?" There is little to no reason in any of these thoughts, but I detest them regardless. More than anything, they make me sad. Fiora is an amazing young Homs, and she has endured pain the likes of which I cannot fathom. She is beloved, and deserves it. I wish I could say the same of myself.

Melia Antiqua

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The method through which Fiora's body is restored is canonical, although it is never mentioned during the game itself. It was revealed in an artbook published shortly after the game's original release.


	2. What made me so special?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melia is Empress of the High Entia. What does that mean, with the Imperial Capital gone and its people either dead or having made a new home elsewhere on the Bionis? Why seek Alcamoth if its people do not wish to return?
> 
> Melia has a duty to her people, but she also has a duty to herself.

Upon reading my previous entry, I realize just how harsh I am on myself. Perhaps that is one of the merits of keeping a journal and putting your thoughts on paper, so that you can see them instead of merely thinking them. That entry was exhausting, in several ways. It has been some time since then, about a week or so. I am traveling, again, and that has thankfully given me little time to be alone with my thoughts. I write this from a room graciously given to me by the residents of Colony 6. A great deal of refugees from Alcamoth chose to make a new home here, and that is the primary reason for my visit.

I have not had a chance to speak with Sharla, unfortunately, as our schedules have both been full. She and other former miners have been trying to get the Ether Mine up and running again. I, meanwhile, have been surveying what remains of my people. I do not take my duty as Empress of the High Entia lightly, although I must admit it took some time for me to understand what exactly that duty was once my journey had ended.

When I was traveling with Shulk and the others, we had a clear goal. Once Zanza was defeated and life on the Bionis was saved, that goal was completed. It left me feeling lost and directionless. I should have been happy that we had succeeded, and indeed I was. But it felt hollow. I did not know what to do next. I could not return to Alcamoth--no one could. The battle with Zanza had changed the structure of the Bionis, and Alcamoth no longer floated above Eryth Sea.

Finding my home became my new duty as Empress. It saddens me to think of it now, abandoned and uninhabited. What of my mother's garden? What of the royal chambers? Has anyone or anything else taken up residence there? I asked these questions of myself constantly as I traveled the Bionis in the weeks after that fateful battle. I saw how the Bionis had changed, and I saw how life had changed. I saw Homs, Nopon, High Entia, Machina, all working together. It heartened me to see that our actions had borne fruit. I treasured the joy I felt at that, for it felt so rare.

One day, it struck me. Everyone seemed so content, so settled. Were I to find Alcamoth, to reclaim it, would anyone even return? Would I rule over an empty city? I knew I could not force my people back to their home. Doing so would go against everything we had worked towards. The High Entia isolated themselves for hundreds of years, thinking themselves the most superior form of life on the Bionis. Wherever Alcamoth is now, it is surely more isolated than before. I cannot in good faith ask my people to abandon their new lives in order to return to a city that they no doubt have already accepted is gone forever.

However, that exact thing is what I have found myself doing. I have been seeking any information anyone might have on Alcamoth's location, yes. Thus far my search has turned up nothing. As I have been doing so, I have also been gauging interest in returning to Alcamoth once it is found. It seems a silly question to ask, seeing as there is no guarantee it will ever be found. But I do not wish to be a rule who is ignorant of her people. Even if they are spread all across the Bionis, I must hear their wishes.

They have, overwhelmingly, spoken with one voice. Wherever they may be, now, be it one of the Colonies, Makna Forest, even Eryth Sea, they are without question happy where they are and would not wish to return to Alcamoth even if it were possible. A select few, primarily those who have lived for over a century, would consider it. But not a single High Entia I have spoken with would commit to a return.

This has left me lost and directionless once again. On the one hand, I am pleased that they have largely accepted their new lot in life, and I am even more pleased that they are proud members of the communities in which they now reside. On the other hand, it gives me little reason to continue my search for Alcamoth. I do not resent my people for this. They have their own voice, and it is my role as their ruler to listen to it.

What reason do I have to continue my search? It is almost entirely personal, now. Why does it dominate my thoughts so? Is it because I spent the first eighty-seven years of my life there? It cannot be that simple, as I have met High Entia far older than I who have no interest in returning. Is it because of my place in the royal family? Perhaps. My father and brother were always proud of the only home they had ever known. They never got a chance to say goodbye to it on their own terms. Neither did I.

Is that it? Closure? Do I seek my home so I can close that chapter of my life forever? Do I wish to see it one last time, so that my final memory of it is not tainted by the slaying of Telethia who were once my friends? Do I believe that something there will grant me the purpose and direction I have lacked?

I find myself staring at the questions above as if someone else wrote them. But they came from my hand. I barely remember writing them even though it was just moments ago. I have made my desires manifest, it seems. Rather, it may be more appropriate to say that they have made themselves manifest. I was simply the conduit.

I have always struggled with knowing what exactly I want for myself, and I have always struggled with wanting anything for myself at all. Long ago, I muffled the part of myself that experiences want. It was shortly after I informed my family that I felt more suited to being a princess rather than being a prince. They were kind enough to accommodate my wishes. I was and still am deeply thankful for that. Still, it felt like I was asking so much of them. I felt selfish. No one else had deigned to ask such a thing of them. What made me so special?

That was what I thought at the time, and so I resolved to never ask for anything ever again. I had been granted the one thing I wanted so badly it made me want to scream. I counted myself lucky for that, and I stopped wanting anything else for myself. Naturally, it was not so easy. Try as I might to will my wants away across those decades, they nevertheless remained. I kept them to myself. I ceased to express them in any way. Other people's wants and needs always superseded my own. That was simply the way of things.

Writing all of this out makes it plainly evident how awful I have been to myself. Were I to have treated another in such a fashion, I would be rightly condemned as a monster. Instead, I have been quietly suffering for most of my almost ninety years of life, and I have thought little of it. The responsibility is not entirely my own, to be sure. My brother's mother, Yumea, resented me long before my father named me as successor. Her cruelty was subtle; at times it was if I did not exist at all to her. As much as I tried to please her, it was impossible from the start. I hope she is at peace.

All of this is to say that I will continue to seek Alcamoth, and I know why. I wish for closure. I wish to leave it behind so that I may continue to live my life as I dictate. I wish to say goodbye, to visit Mother's garden one final time. None of these reasons extend beyond myself. I must learn to admit that there is nothing wrong with that.

I have written in this journal twice now, and the process has drained me on both occasions. It is not only physically draining, although now that I glance at the clock I see that is far later than I care to admit. I am mentally drained as well. Strangely, I am thankful for my exhaustion. Much like a day of work constructing a house leaves you tired but fulfilled, I feel that I have something to show for my work. When I write in this journal, I feel more in touch with myself than I have ever felt before. Have I truly so numbed myself to my emotions that I cannot acknowledge them unless they are laid out in front of me in text?

It is too late to dwell on that any further. Sharla knew that I desperately needed this journal. I will have to thank her before I leave Colony 6.

Melia Antiqua


	3. I did not mean for this to turn into a letter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melia's travels take her back to Frontier Village, where she enjoys a reunion with Riki. They talk about family, and later that night she is still thinking about her own.

The ritual of rereading my previous entry before starting a new one is proving to be very illuminating. It has been a touch over two weeks since I last wrote, as travel and talk have occupied most of my time. This is the first evening in a while in which I have had some energy remaining at day's end. Upon going over my previous entry, I can plainly see that I am more anxious now than I was at any point during my journey with Shulk and the others, save for those fretful few days when we thought Shulk's life to be extinguished. I suspect that my anxiety derives from the fact that my journey is now a solitary one, in which I am unable to share my burdens with others.

Though, that's not entirely true. Though I travel alone, I have comrades in the places I visit, and that is certainly true for my present location of Makna Forest. It has changed considerably since my last visit. Although Frontier Village remains relatively the same, the area surrounding it has blossomed into a fine little settlement. There are fewer High Entia here than in other places, to be sure, and that was in large part due to the lack of proper accommodations. Nopon housing, while cozy, is simply not suited for someone of my stature.

There are a few houses that have been built around the base of the tree that contains Frontier Village, and more are being built as I write. The Nopon have been very welcoming and helpful, and I am told that each site was chosen with input from the villagers. The Bionis is transforming. No longer is each race confined to the only home on Bionis they have ever known. Now, each of those homes is open to everyone. I have touched upon this in previous entries, but it is worth repeating. Our journey, our efforts, and the sacrifices of us and those we lost along the way--it was worth it.

I arrived today, and am staying in one of the still-vacant houses. Riki was kind enough to ask if I would prefer to stay with him and his family, but I politely declined. I couldn't bear to impose on him like that. I am just glad to see him again. Earlier today was our first meeting since we parted ways after the battle with Zanza. I will admit that I shed some tears. It had been far too long since the last time I had hugged him, and I am pleased to report that he remains as huggable as ever.

His family has been delighted to have him back home after he had spent such a long time away from it. He gave me updates on each of his littlepons, and I was reminded of what a good ~~father~~ daddypon he is. His family is so unlike my own. Two parents and their children. That is about as simple as it gets. My family consisted of my father, his two consorts, my brother, and myself. I do not like using the term "half-brother" for Kallian, despite its truth and accuracy. Although we only share one parent, he was never anything less than a full brother to me. I miss him.

It strikes me that everyone I just counted as a member of my family has passed away. My father and brother were killed, to describe it as succinctly as possible. My Homs mother died of old age decades ago, and we were forced to slay Yumea after she had transformed into a Telethia.

That reminds me. There is one other member of my family that yet lives, although blood does not bind us. Tyrea. Yumea's daughter with a man who was not my father. I have not seen her since we ended Yumea's suffering. I do not know of her whereabouts, but I hope that she is well. I cannot see the future as Shulk could, but I suspect that I will cross paths with her once more in my quest to find Alcamoth.

Suffice it to say that my family is not a typical one. I spoke about this with Riki today, so it is fresh on my mind.

"Melly always welcome to join Riki's family," he told me. "Riki already make Shulk Riki's littlepon!"

I had not heard about this. I told him as much.

"Shulk not stay at home because Shulk busy. Riki understand. All littlepons grow up someday. But Shulk always have home here." He gave me that charming smile of his. "Melly always have home here too!"

Just like that, I was crying again. I had to explain to Riki that it wasn't because I was sad. I was just happy to be thought of in such a way.

I feel awful for lying to him, even if it was a lie of omission. Yes, I was happy to be considered part of a family again, even if it was purely symbolic in nature. But I did feel sad, too. I couldn't help but compare myself to Shulk. Yes, I may have lost my family, and it may not have been a typical family to begin with. But Shulk's family had been taken from him before he had even gotten a chance to know them. Which is worse? To have known your family and lost them, or to have never had a family to begin with?

No. Even as I wrote those words, I knew how senseless they were. But I must record them in order to face them. I have a better question to ask of myself. Why do I feel the need to compare my pain with the pain of others? Shulk and I have both experienced loss. His loss does not invalidate my own. It is foolish of me to compare such a thing as if I were tallying points in a game.

Ah. I have been wondering when I would first stain these pages with my tears. I see that now is the time. Of course it is when I am thinking of Shulk. I remain as predictable as ever.

Oh, Shulk. Where are you right now? Are you awake? What are you thinking? Do you think of me? Do you miss me as I miss you? Riki asked you to join his family without a second thought. I wish I was brave enough to ask the same of you. But I cannot. I mustn't. Fiora will emerge from that restoration chamber, back in her Homs body. It is she who deserves to start a family with you, not I.

Oh, Fiora. Have you been asleep since you entered the chamber all those weeks ago? Or have you been forced to endure your solitude while fully awake? Does it hurt? Surely, you have known enough pain already. I hope that you have been spared of even more. Will you experience hunger again? I should prepare something for you. I will have to write Dunban and find out what your favorite meal is. I will also have to improve my cooking skills in order to make something worthy of you. It has only just occurred to me that I have never seen your original body. I do not know what it looks like, or how you dress.

I did not mean for this to turn into a letter. It is not as if either of them will ever see these words. I believe I will take a walk to calm my nerves and then turn in for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- The quest in which Yumea's Telethia form is slaim, "Melancholy Tyrea," is optional, although it is the only optional quest with fully voiced cutscenes.  
> \- Riki made Shulk his littlepon in their max affinity Heart-to-Heart, "Those Waiting for You."  
> \- Careful readers may notice that Melia didn't sign this one. I wonder why?


	4. "You're her hero, Melia."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of writing Dunban a letter, Melia decides to pay him a visit instead. Their meeting proves to be so significant that Melia records it word-for-word in her journal later that night.

The day after my previous entry, I began to draft my letter to Dunban. Midway through that process, it became clear to me that a letter simply would not do. This was a conversation that would better suit the both of us were we to have it in person. Once I finished my business in Makna Forest, I returned to Colony 9.

Dunban was not at his home, so I surmised that he was most likely at the High Entia ruins in which Fiora is currently interred. My reasoning proved correct. I found him there, sitting cross-legged on the ground a few meters away from the door. Without turning around, he greeted me. What followed was a very illuminating conversation, which I will do my best to faithfully record below. It is not a conversation I ever wish to forget.

"Melia!" This was his greeting. He did not turn around to face me, nor stand up. Though he has not seen combat for some time now, his instincts remain. "I see that you know what day it is."

"Greetings, Dunban," I replied. "To tell the truth, I do not know what day it is. Could you please enlighten me?" I spoke honestly. Travel across the Bionis makes the days and weeks blend together.

"Huh. I guess no one's tracking it as closely as I am." He gestured towards the door that had been sealed since Fiora's entry. "She's been in there for three months, now." As fate would have it, the day I arrived was also the day that marked the midway point since Fiora's entry into the regeneration chamber.

I nodded. "I see. In that case, we are now closer in time to her exit than her entry."

Dunban finally stood up. He dusted himself off and looked at me. "That's right," he said. There was a glint in his eyes that I had never seen before. "She's almost saved."

Even then, there were thoughts in my head that troubled me. I ignored them and continued the conversation. "Do you come here often, Dunban?"

He walked to one of the few walls that wasn't stocked with ether canisters and leaned against it. I recall that he looked at the door while he spoke. "I try not to come here too often. Maybe every other week." I saw him smile. "One of the lessons I've had to learn as an older brother is not to be too doting. I know that whatever's happening in there, she can handle it. She _is_ handling it." He sighed. "But I imagine it's terribly lonely in there. So I keep her company when I see fit. Today seemed like a particularly good day."

I briefly recalled my relationship with Kallian. I would never have considered him "doting," though it was always clear how deeply he cared for me. I was thankful that Fiora also had a positive relationship with her elder brother. "Do you believe that she's conscious right now? Or do you believe her to be asleep?" I asked, not knowing my own answer.

"I don't think any of that matters, Melia." I think he could see the shock on my face at his response, as he quickly explained himself. "What I mean to say is that it doesn't matter what I believe. All I _know_ is that she's on the other side of that door. Regardless of whether or not she can hear me, I'm still going to talk to her."

"You speak with her?"

His eyes were still fixed on the door, but his expression was soft. "Of course. I keep her updated on what's going on in Colony 9. I talk to her about the weather. I let her know how I'm doing."

"I take it you haven't heard anything from her."

He looked down. "I haven't." He paused. "Do you remember when she described what it was like when Lady Meyneth was using her body?"

That was not a question I was expecting. I did remember. Her description of that situation has stuck like a thorn in my mind ever since. "I do. Lady Meyneth was speaking and acting for her, but Fiora could still see and hear everything that happened around her." As I recalled that, I realized why Dunban had asked me that. "Do you believe something similar to be happening now? That Fiora is unable to use her body while it is regenerated, but still able to use her senses?"

He turned to me and nodded. "It's only a theory. You're actually the first person I've told about it. It'd explain why she hasn't responded, even if she can hear me."

It made sense. It was rational and based on precedent. "That's quite astute of you, Dunban. I think you may be right." I looked towards the door, now. "In that case, would she not hear us conversing right now?"

His eyebrow raised. "That's true." He cast a glance towards the door before approaching me and whispering. "Shall we continue our chat back at my house, then?"

I was thankful that he understood. I lowered my voice to match his. "That would be preferable. Speaking to her privately is one thing. A conversation she can hear but not participate in is another matter entirely. I would feel rude."

"A fine point, and considerate as ever. Let's be off, then." He turned back towards the door and raised his voice back to normal. "I'm off, Fiora! See you soon!"

At that, he made for the exit. I had not addressed Fiora personally, and I thought it polite to do so before I left. "Farewell, Fiora! I look forward to seeing you again!"

We were quiet for most of the walk back to Dunban's house. Once we had arrived, he opened the door and invited me in, and as I entered I noticed several paintings and canvases strewn about. Some were still on easels, some were already hanging on the wall, some were simply leaning against the wall, and some were unfinished or blank. As I had never seen the interior of this house before, I had no idea if this was typical.

Dunban must have noticed me looking them over. "Don't judge me too harshly," he told me with a smile. "I've only recently picked up the hobby."

Most of his finished works were landscapes of what I recognized to be locations in and around Colony 9, with a still life thrown in here and there. He worked with few colors, but he had an eye for detail that allowed for faithful recreations despite his lack of experience. If he was self-taught, he had made a tremendous amount of progress. I guessed aloud that he had only started painting after returning home, and I was right.

He told me that he has not picked up his sword at all since then, and he has no desire to hold it ever again. "Even then, I still felt like I needed to hold something in my hand." With a flourish, he picked up a stray paintbrush and twirled it around his fingers. "I find that this fits pretty well."

As a swordsman, he was without peer. It was clear that he was taking his new craft just as seriously. "Do you have an instructor?" I asked, out of genuine interest.

He chuckled. "No, nothing of the sort. Maybe it's because I'm too proud, but I've found that I learn better when I follow my own path and go at my own pace."

"Your work is remarkable. You must spend a great deal of time and effort in honing your skills."

"Something like that. It passes the time, and it helps me relax. Helps that I always have something to show for all that time and effort you speak of." He sat down and invited me to sit across from him at the table, which I accepted. "Now, don't tell me you came just to hear me go on about my artistic ability."

Despite the fact that my interest in his hobbies was sincere, I nevertheless confessed that there was truth in his statement. "I certainly do not mind hearing how my good friend has been passing the time." I exhaled. "You are correct, though. I did not come all this way just to catch up."

"It's Fiora, then?" Perceptive as ever.

"Yes, in a sense." I took a deep breath. "I was originally going to write you. I had the idea of preparing a meal to commemorate Fiora's exit, since I imagine she will be able to eat again once her body is restored."

Dunban had set his elbow on the table, and his chin rested in his upturned palm. He looked out the window. "That's not a bad idea. No one better to ask for advice on Fiora's tastes than her brother."

"Indeed. While we are on the topic, would you mind sharing your thoughts? I rarely cook and would appreciate any guidance."

"Well, I can tell you this. Being a novice doesn't matter. Fiora doesn't like anything too fancy. Nothing spicy, nothing sour, nothing bitter," he explained. His eyes flitted towards me, and he grinned. "She likes things simple. If you keep it simple and cook from the heart, she'll love whatever you make."

"Right. I see. Thank you for this."

"Of course. Now, I take it that letter of yours got a touch more complicated than asking for cooking tips, right?" 

"Yes." Negative thoughts whirled around in my head. I willed them away. "I wish to," I paused to find the words I had rehearsed so many times on the way to Colony 9, "improve my standing with Fiora, once she is restored."

I could not bear to tell Dunban of the thoughts that had invaded my mind, especially seeing as they were increasingly desperate as Fiora approached a full recovery. As long as she remained behind that door, however, they would stop at nothing to try to convince me that the best thing that could ever happen to me was for her never to emerge from it, somehow. No! I wanted her to live! If there was some way for me to atone for even thinking such things, to make sure that they would never cross my mind again, to ensure her happiness, I wanted to know.

"Improve your standing?" Dunban recited. He spoke those words as if he had never encountered them before. "Melia, I don't understand what you mean."

I tried to explain myself without going into detail. "Perhaps I phrased it incorrectly. You see now the need for this conversation." I found myself unable to look him in the eyes, suddenly. "I simply wish for her to think better of me."

My hands were resting on the table. I suddenly felt his hand on top of them. I mustered up enough courage to look at him, and he looked as if his own heart had been broken. For a fleeting moment, I felt absolutely terrible. I was on the verge of tears. There were too many emotions welling up within me to count.

His words were soft, direct, and honest. "You're her hero, Melia." Seeing that I was in no shape to respond, he continued to speak. "I don't know where you got the idea that you need to 'improve your standing' with her or anything of the sort. Maybe it's because she's been unable to speak to you for the past few months, or you didn't get the chance to talk often enough beforehand. Do you know how often she spoke with me about you?"

I knew that if I tried to say anything, I would erupt into sobs. I shook my head slowly, trying my very best not to cry in front of Dunban so soon after crying in front of Riki.

"At every opportunity she had. She was devastated at being unable to do anything to save your father. She was nervous about getting to know someone from a royal family. She was worried you'd think that she was annoying or a burden. She was proud of how much you accomplished, thankful you were able to open the regeneration chamber, anxious because she didn't know how she'd ever make it up to you! Forgive me for going on and on, but I want you to understand this, Melia. I know my sister better than anyone on the Bionis. You and Shulk are the only people she's ever been so taken by."

By the end of Dunban's speech, my efforts had failed me and I was reduced to a sobbing mess. Even the process of rewriting it has put tears in my eyes once more. I find it all so difficult to believe, but Dunban is not the kind of man who would lie to me. I trust him, and so I must find it in myself to believe him.

I am Fiora's hero. Those words did not feel true as I wrote them, but I am simply echoing what Dunban, a man whom I trust with my life, told me. I am Fiora's hero.

Perhaps one day I will be able to take that to heart. Perhaps it will be best if I pay her a visit myself before I depart for my next destination.

Melia Antiqua


	5. I am no hero.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Dunban's words, Melia plans to visit the High Entia regeneration chamber by herself, in order to speak to Fiora. She doesn't trust her nerves in the moment, so she plans out what she's going to say the night before.

Tomorrow morning, I will be leaving Colony 9. My next destination is Machina Village. Before I depart, I have planned a brief detour at the High Entia ruins. Dunban's words have inspired me to speak with Fiora, even if there is a chance she will not hear my words. I have much to say, and I fear my nerves will get the better of me. So, I am going to spend my night writing out what I wish to say, so that I may simply read from it when the time comes.

Fiora. I greeted you a few days ago, when I spoke with your brother. He has replaced his sword with a paintbrush, and I believe you will find his newfound artistic skills rather charming. In all likelihood, he has already told you about his new hobby. Perhaps he is gearing up to paint a portrait of you once you have returned. You are truly lucky to be able to count him as a member of your family. I can think of few men more compassionate than he, and it is patently obvious that you are the most important person in the world to him. I imagine that this is something you have already taken to heart, but it bears repeating if so. Do not take him for granted.

My original intention in speaking with him was to learn your culinary tastes so that I may prepare you a dish that will be to your liking once you are capable of eating again. Indeed, it was a very informative visit to that end. I have learned that you do not care for fancy meals or strong flavors. You prefer a simple meal, made with care. I do not wish to spoil the surprise, but I already have some ideas as to what I am going to cook. It is a happy coincidence that your tastes suit my experience, as I have rarely cooked in my life and would not feel comfortable preparing anything particularly fancy or flavorful.

Our conversation continued after our discussion of your tastes. I must admit to you that there were originally ulterior motives behind my plans to cook for you. I will repeat to you what I said to him. I wished to improve my standing with you, for you to think better of me. You likely think this to be absurd. Unfortunately, it is the truth. I learned that there was a wide gulf between how I thought you felt about me and how you actually felt about me. Dunban told me that I am your hero. He told me that Shulk was the only other person he'd ever seen you so taken by. I found this all quite hard to believe in the moment, and the same is true today.

I know that regret is a useless emotion. Still, I regret not speaking with you more often when I had the opportunity. Were that the case, I might have had a better grasp on how you truly felt about me. I regret not being more clear about my own emotions, although there are times when I can barely make sense of them myself. I admired your strength from the very beginning, and I admire it even today. You and I both felt it necessary to shoulder our heavy burdens by ourselves. I will never forget the night you told me about the limited time you had remaining in your mechanized form. It still humbles me that I was the first person you told. Was that your way of telling me how highly you thought of me? Was I already your hero, then?

I apologize, Fiora. I am no hero. You deserve to hear the truth from me. On that night, you shared something with me that no one else knew. I see fit now to return the favor. What you are about to hear is something I have not divulged to a soul on the Bionis, because it brings me such shame. It pains me to write it, to say it, to even think of it, but I accept that all these things are necessary in order to move on from it.

Ever since that night, whenever I was alone with my thoughts, disturbing ideas would enter my mind. I dwelt on them as little as possible, but I must take responsibility for them. No one forced these thoughts into my head. They came from somewhere deep and dark inside me. You told me to take care of Shulk if your body failed you. You will remember that I vehemently denied your request. That deep and dark part of me wished I would have accepted. I found myself actively wishing the same thing, sometimes. And then I would turn to you and see the pain you were trying so hard to hide and wonder how I could ever entertain such a depraved fantasy.

Those thoughts have been with me ever since, even today. I thought that unsealing this chamber would dispel them, but unfortunately that has not proven to be the case. They tell me that there is a possibility that the procedure will somehow fail. They ask me if it would be such a bad thing were that to happen. They remind me that your intention was for me to be with Shulk. I remind myself that you made that request of me under more duress than I could possibly imagine. I ask myself what it would do to the others if you were to be lost so close to being saved. I tell myself that there is no evidence that this procedure will be unsuccessful. I am constantly at war with myself. It is exhausting.

Please do not get the wrong idea, although I concede that after hearing all of that, it may be asking too much of you. I ask for your understanding and forgiveness. More than anything, Fiora, I do not wish to lose you. I wish for you to live. You may wonder why I told you of my intentions to improve my standing with you, and then shared all of these disgusting thoughts. It is because my desire is for you to know all of what I am. After hearing all of this, you may never want to see me again. I would accept that, as much as it would hurt me to do so.

However, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I would be most grateful. We could start anew. Once you are healed, those thoughts will no longer have anything to cling to. You will finally be able to be with Shulk without having to worry. You deserve nothing less, and he deserves nothing less than you. I will be happy to support you in whatever way I can. Shulk is a fine young man, with good intentions and a strong heart, although he can be a bit oblivious at times.

I find it somewhat funny that I am talking to you about Shulk as if you have never met him. You have known him far longer than I, yet another reason why the two of you are so well suited to one another. In fact, just the thought of you two together makes my heart flutter. Surely that must be another sign that the two of you are truly meant to be!

Stay strong, Fiora, and I look forward to seeing you walk out of that chamber with your new lease on life.

Your friend,

Melia Antiqua


	6. They are but flowers in my garden.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to recite her letter to Fiora, Melia travels to Machina Village in an attempt to get her mind off of it. While there, she discovers that Alcamoth has been found, though she can't bear to leave now and risk missing Fiora's return. Two months remain until that day, and Melia's thoughts wander as she laments how far away that day feels.

I am ashamed. After putting so much effort into my previous entry, it pains me to admit that I did not read it to Fiora, as I had planned. Instead, I simply stood at the entrance to those ruins in Colony 9, clutching this journal in my hands. I could just see the entrance to the chamber, but I was paralyzed by fear.

Fear? Is that the correct word? I struggle to find words for how I felt in my moment that are not "scared" or "terrified." It felt as if a pit had opened up in the center of my body, growing deeper by the second. I felt real, actual pain that nearly made me double over. It was the first time I had felt such a thing since those first few conversations with my father about how I wished to present myself, or on those occasions I could tell that Yumea was not at all satisfied with something I had said or done. It was a fear not for my life, but for my heart. Even decades later, those moments stick out in my memory.

Ever since that day, I have given much thought to that fear. The physical feeling of that pit in my chest distinguishes it from other feelings, other emotions. I felt nothing like it when my life was on the line, nor when the fate of all life on the Bionis was on the line. I did not even feel that pit when I thought Shulk to be dead after Zanza and Dickson's treachery. Perhaps I did feel some form of fear at that time, though whenever I think back on it, all I can remember is anger and denial.

Even today, I can still feel that pit of despair lingering within me. It has haunted me ever since I turned away from the regeneration chamber without even so much as a greeting or a farewell to Fiora. It does not quite "hurt" as badly as it did at the time, but it occupies my thoughts constantly. On countless occasions, I have faced almost certain death. I have faced creatures that dwarf me in size, creatures that could end my life with naught but a flick of their wrist. I have watched members of my family die, powerless to do anything to help them. I have seen into the very fabric of all existence, and faced a crazed being with the powers of a god. With all of that experience, I still found myself so terrified by even the thought of Fiora potentially hearing what I had written that I could not do something as plainly simple as recite a letter to a door.

I digress. There is something else I must admit. It has been almost a month since my last entry. I have been in Machina Village for most of that time, and I am still here as I write this entry. There have been some major developments in my personal quest, developments significant enough to force me to overcome that pit in my chest and open this journal once again.

I originally visited the village to check in on those High Entia who had chosen to settle here. Earlier today, Linada pulled me aside and asked me to take a ride in Junks with her and Miqol. I obliged, though when I asked what they were taking me to see, she told me it was best if I saw it for myself. As we flew over what appeared to be the shoulder of the Bionis, I understood exactly what she meant.

Alcamoth! My home! It had been found! I thanked Linada and Miqol profusely for their assistance in finding it, and I immediately asked for them to set me down. Unfortunately, it would not be so easy. The structure of the Shoulder left nary a landing place for Junks, and even if it did, there were no transporters to take us into the city. Worse yet, it appeared as if Alcamoth had been beset by a thick fog. I shudder to think of what has happened there in the past few months.

In any case, its location is no longer a mystery to me. At last, I can prepare to visit it rather than search for it. I have already accepted that it is unlikely that we can resettle it, especially in such an isolated location. That is acceptable. My people no longer cling to their past, to a history of isolation. As I have outlined earlier in this journal, this will be a wholly personal journey for me.

All that said, I dare not pack my bags and leave immediately. For one, there is currently no way to reach the Shoulder that is not through the air. The only craft that could feasibly land there is Junks, and both Miqol and Linada are adamant that more preparations must be made on their end before we can even think of flying Junks there. I am more than willing to be patient for their sake, especially since they were so kind as to find it for me.

The other reason I do not wish to leave immediately is that I have no idea how long Alcamoth would occupy me. Despite the fact that I was unable to face Fiora a month ago, I shudder to consider the possibility of missing her eventual emergence from the chamber. Even though I have no idea what I will say or do once she has returned to us, I owe it to her to be there when she does. I imagine everyone else who traveled with us will be there, too. In that sense, it will be a reunion of sorts. It will be nice to have everyone together again.

That day is about two months away, now. I am hesitant to say that it feels like an eternity. Being around so many Machina as of late has made me very keenly aware that I have no idea what eternity truly is. Miqol has lived for six thousand years. Two months is a grain of sand in an hourglass to him. Even my own life, nearly ninety years of it, would barely make up a handful of sand in that proverbial hourglass.

The scope of time is not a subject I typically care to dwell on. Comparing my own lifespan to that of the Machina is one thing, as their lifespans stretch further than I could ever hope to truly comprehend, across millennia. Inevitably, I find myself comparing my own lifespan to that of a Homs. A High Entia at the end of their life can measure it in centuries, while a Homs at the end of their life must measure it in decades.

The first time I was forced to confront this, it was because of my mother. No one had deigned to tell me how short a Homs life was, so I was left to wonder why it was that my mother was growing old so rapidly at the same time my brother, who had already lived for a hundred years by that point, did not seem to grow older at all. I always knew on some level that Mother was different from everyone else in Alcamoth, but it was only then that I realized the depth of what that actually meant. When I finally asked her about it, we were in her garden. As she reached the end of her life, she asked me to help her tend it far more often. I think it is because she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible before she passed away.

She knelt down and showed me a beautiful flower, one that I had helped her plant some time ago. It was drooping slightly, and she noted that it, too, was reaching the end of its life. "Flowers do not ask to bloom," she told me, "but they bloom anyway. I am but a flower in this garden, Melia." She stood up and rested the palm of her hand against the trunk of one of the many trees in the Imperial Villa. "You are a tree, and long after I am gone you will continue to grow." I understood what she was saying, but I was still very confused as to why there was apparently nothing that could be done about this.

"It can't be helped," I remember her saying with a wistful smile on her face. She cupped my cheek, and before I could even realize I was crying, she was wiping the tears from my face. "But know this, Melia. Everything in this garden is interconnected. After that flower dies and returns to the soil, the roots of that tree will take in those nutrients and continue to grow." She looked genuinely happy to be telling me all this. "I brought you into this world, and not once have I ever regretted it. I have cherished every moment that we have been blessed to spend together. I have been fortunate to see you grow into the person that you want to be. I have had ample time to teach you about the importance of kindness, selflessness, and a willingness to help others in need. After I have gone, my daughter, a part of me will always live on within you."

We embraced for a few tender moments, and then it was back to tending the garden. She passed away a few years after that conversation.

I did not mean to recall that anecdote in such detail, but I can think of no better way to honor her memory. As I recalled it, it dawned on me that I am older today than Mother was at the end of her life. I suppose such a thought must have occurred to me previously, but the weight of it feels rather heavy, now. I have already lived longer than most Homs or Nopon could hope to live. If my High Entia blood is any indication, I will certainly live for at least another century. The most basic arithmetic makes it evident that, should I live my life to its fullest extent, I will have to watch as everyone with whom I traveled--Reyn, Sharla, Riki, Dunban, Fiora, Shulk--grows old and passes away, just like my mother.

I have considered this fact before, and seeing it laid out in front of me does not make it any easier to reckon with. They are but flowers in my garden. As with so many other difficult truths that I have confronted using this journal, clearly stating that truth is the first step towards accepting it. I sense that there will be many more steps in that particular journey.

Those steps will have to come later. I no longer wish to continue this entry. It is late. I must rest.

Melia Antiqua

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- If the description of the "pit" in Melia's chest struck a chord with you, I drew a lot from my experiences with rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD) when writing it.   
> \- Xenoblade Chronicles is not at all forthcoming when it comes to information about Melia's Homs mother. We don't even get a name--all we know for sure is that she died of old age well before the events of the game, and that her and Melia spent a great deal of time in the Imperial Villa. I tried to take as few liberties with her character as possible.  
> \- Likewise, we don't know a lot about how being half-Homs and half-High Entia affects your lifespan. Although Emperor Sorean, Melia's father, did not die of natural causes, he still lived to be 320 years old. If we assume that the typical life expectancy for someone like Melia is the exact midpoint between a Homs (let's say 80--the oldest Homs NPC I could find was 74) and a High Entia, that comes to around 200. So, Melia is just about at the midpoint of her life. Maybe this is her mid-life crisis!


End file.
